


Born under a Christmas Star

by tamnation



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Feelstide 2012, M/M, Pheels, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamnation/pseuds/tamnation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil's birthday falls on Christmas, but everyone seems to be too caught up in the holiday to pay too much attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born under a Christmas Star

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Feelstide prompt 42: Someone's birthday is actually on Christmas and everyone always forgets. I've rewritten this about six times now, but I'm fairly happy now :)
> 
> Disclaimer: You guys know the drill, if you recognise it, I don't own it. The Avengers is property of Marvel :)

Phil wakes on the morning of his 48th birthday to someone rather rudely poking his side – and not gently either. He opens his eyes with a groan to come face to face with Clint. Not wholly unsurprising, given that Clint has practically moved in by now; both of them trying to make up for years of lost time before Loki and Fury’s lies. Unlike most mornings though, Clint is wide awake, his eyes wide and excitement barely contained as he watches Phil. Phil rolls over with a groan and throws an arm over his eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep.

 

He’s rewarded with another poke to the ribs.

 

“Come on, Phil,” Clint whines, dragging the sentence out like an impatient five year old. “Wake up. It’s Christmas, and Steve says we can’t even go see the tree until everyone’s up.”

 

When Phil makes no response to that, Clint pokes him once more for good measure, before switching tactics. A warm kiss presses against Phil’s bare neck, followed by another, and another, trailing down towards his shoulder. When Clint nips at his neck, just above the collarbone, Phil shudders and lets out a soft moan.

 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Clint promises, mouthing the words against Phil’s skin. Phil turns back over to pull Clint closer, only for him to move backwards off the bed, a delighted grin all over his face and Phil sighs.

 

“You’re a tease, Barton.”

 

“You know you love it,” Clint says cheerily, tossing a shirt at Phil’s head when he sits up. “How can you sleep in anyways? It’s Christmas.”

 

Phil pauses for a moment, but there’s nothing else coming. Clint doesn’t say “Happy Birthday” or make teasing comments about his age. He doesn’t say anything at all, just stands there, bouncing on his feet impatiently as he waits for Phil. There’s a pang of disappointment that Phil resolutely ignores as he climbs out of the bed and pulls on a pair of slacks.

 

Clint beams at him and turns towards the door, but Phil catches his arm and spins Clint back towards him. He wraps his arms around him to keep him from pulling away and kisses him, a proper, good-morning kiss that leaves them both slightly breathless and seems to shake a little of Clint’s enthusiasm if his backwards glance towards the bed is anything to go by. Phil smiles. “Merry Christmas, Clint.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Phil.”

 

Phil manages to keep his smile in place, even as the stirrings of disappointment settle in his stomach. Clint’s just excited, that’s all. Phil forgets sometimes that he’s the only one who has ever done the whole holiday experience. He has a childhood of happy Birthday/Christmas’s spent with his parents and a couple of others over the years. This is Clint’s first Christmas with a family and most of the others are in a similar situation. They’ve all been looking forward to this for weeks, and it’s understandable that some things are less memorable.

 

_‘You’re not memorable,’_ says that tiny voice of insecurity that has a tendency to show up around Clint and the rest of the superheroes Phil works with. Phil ignores it, just like he always does. He knows he’s earned his spot as the Avengers handler, and there’s no truth to his doubts.

 

He follows Clint down to the main kitchen where all of the avengers are sitting. There’s coffee and varying states of breakfast between them, but none of them are really eating. A nervous tension fills the room and when Tony’s eyes land on Phil and Clint he lets out an audible sigh of relief.

 

“Thank God for that. I thought you’d never get up,” he exclaims and then he’s moving towards the closed double doors that lead into the main lounge area and he throws them open to reveal what can only be termed as a Christmas extravaganza.

 

There’s tinsels and wreaths draped over the walls, a fireplace over in one corner that Phil’s fairly certain Tony got installed solely for the festive season. Stockings with each Avengers name embroidered in gold thread are hanging across the front of the mantelpiece, each stuffed to the brim with tiny presents. But the main attraction is definitely the Tree. 12ft tall, covered in baubles and trinkets and even some of the Avengers merchandise that Tony has adapted to fit on the tree. The tree glows with lights and Phil is fairly sure that the soft sounds of Christmas carols is playing out of a recording device, somewhere in the tree. It’s gorgeous and Phil’s probably the only one thinking about which forms are going to have to be filled out when it inevitably bursts into flames. But then Phil’s not feeling particularly festive today.

 

The other avengers appear to freeze for a moment, before all hell breaks loose and they are scrambling like the overgrown children Phil accuses them of being towards the giant gleaming pile of presents. Only Phil and Pepper remain in the kitchen doorway.

 

“You’ve done a wonderful job,” Phil offers and she smiles at him in pleasure.

 

“Thank you, Phil. Most of it was actually Tony, I just had to stop him from going completely over the top.”

 

“This is understated?” Phil asks, when really he should know better by now when it comes to Stark. Pepper gives him a fond look that says she finds his disbelief amusing.

 

“Merry Christmas, Phil,” Pepper says, and then she’s moving into the room, towards where Tony is fixing a Santa hat to Dummy in a poor attempt to hide the fact that he’s watching the others open their stockings in anticipation. They all agreed on one gift for each team member, but as Phil looks at the pile the numbers don’t add up, and Phil wonders how much Tony has spent on gifts from ‘Santa’.

 

Clint is suddenly there, pulling on his arm with a huge smile across his face as he drags Phil over to where he’s claimed the love seat and has already got Phil’s stocking lying next to his own. Phil loves that smile and he grins as well.

 

The morning passes in a bit of a blur for Phil. There are presents and a chorus of ‘Merry Christmases’ from everyone, and even more presents. Clint is the most excited, but even Natasha and Steve seem caught up in the high of Christmas enthusiasm. But as lunchtime nears, Phil feels his own spirits lagging.

 

He tries to be grateful for what he has, which is a morning spent with most of his favourite people (not that he’s ever going to tell Stark that) who have let him into their lives. He’s received his fair share of the presents, including the last Captain America card he needs to complete his set again and Steve has already signed it. Really, he’s grateful that he even got a chance to see this Christmas and that the city is still standing.

 

But it’s his birthday, and he’s fast losing hope that anyone has remembered that. He’s helped celebrate all of their birthdays, and the dates are etched into his memory as clearly as they are marked in their files. He knows that Tony has read his file; that Clint and Natasha have seen his ID card with the date clearly marked under his name. The entire team has been exposed to the information on numerous occasions: there is no way they cannot know what today is.

 

Phil is trying not to follow those thoughts to their logical conclusion. As they sit down to the Christmas lunch that Bruce has cooked – Turkey, ham, and all the sides – Phil is finding it harder to ignore.

 

He tries to focus on the way that Clint’s leg keeps bumping against his own, until halfway through the meal when he hooks his foot around Phil’s ankle, presses his leg against Phil and simply leaves it there, clearly enjoying the contact. Phil tries to focus on the way that Steve and Thor are trying to engage him in a conversation on the comparative religious mythology around the Christmas holiday, but at the moment, the only thing Phil can think of is the rather childish view that Jesus stole his birthday, even though according to the views of recent scholars, Jesus probably wasn’t even born in December.

 

Finally, he tries to simply focus on Clint; on that smile and that warm, pleasant glow he feels whenever the other man lets down his walls this far and allows himself just to be happy.

 

But the thoughts don’t go away and Phil’s left with two thoughts that hurt to even contemplate. Either his birthday is so unimportant that every single one of his team members forgot about it, or else they remember and simply don’t care enough to take the time out of the Christmas festivities to wish him happy birthday. He feels uncharitable even thinking it, but the thoughts are there, stubborn and immoveable.

He unhooks his leg from Clint just as Natasha brings out a trifle and about three types of pudding and tries to ignore the brief confused look that flits across Clint’s face. Phil’s a professional, and he’ll make it through lunch, but all he really wants is to go back to his room and be alone for a while to get his thoughts in order.

 

Ten minutes later, he gets his wish. Although he probably could have done without the food fight and the fact that he now has cake and cream in his hair. Nothing a shower can’t fix though. As he undresses in the bathroom, he catches sight of himself in the mirror and gives himself a twisted smile.

 

“Happy Birthday, Phil,” he mutters bitterly and wishes he didn’t feel quite so alone and pathetic as he does right now.

 

He gets out of the shower to find Clint sitting on the edge of the bed; shoulders slumped as he stares at the phone in his hand. Phil’s phone, he realises, when Clint holds it up for him to see. Clint’s expression is carefully guarded, but his eyes reflect a sense of insecurity and the happy glow from earlier has all but dissipated.

 

Phil’s heart plummets for a second as he reaches for it, one hand carefully clutching the towel around his waist, but there’s no compromising information or some new threat to the city. The screen shows a short message sent from Nick’s personal phone that says simply “Happy Birthday, Cheese.” Phil’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with this information. He glances from the phone to Clint’s increasingly hurt expression and back to the phone before it dawns on him.

 

Ah.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Phil pauses, stifling the automatic response of “I thought you knew.” Just knowing that Clint didn’t forget or choose to ignore today is doing wonders for the bitterness that has settled in his stomach. All of his thoughts and assumptions seem silly now, because he has never told Clint when his birthday is, not directly, and starting a fight now just seems stupid.

 

“Everyone was enjoying Christmas for the first time as a team. I didn’t want to take away from that,” Phil says slowly as he carefully sits on the bed next to Clint. Clint turns to look at him with a sad expression as he looks for answers.

 

“It’s your birthday, Phil. We could have at least had a cake or something,” Clint says, all sincerity and indignation, as if he honestly couldn’t understand Phil’s logic. “You know we didn’t know, right? That there’s no way I would have forgotten something this important?”

 

“I do now.” Phil never lies to Clint, and he isn’t about to start now even though Clint looks like he’s been slapped. He reaches out to grab Clint’s hand, but Clint pulls away, standing up with a determined look on his face. “Clint?”

 

“Get dressed. Meet me in the lounge in five.”

 

“Clint…” Phil calls, but the archer ignores him, already halfway out the door. Phil’s not quite sure what just happens, but he pulls on some jeans and his green shirt – the one that Clint claims is his favourite and head back up to the lounge.

 

Most of the team is already there, watching a Christmas movie that Phil is only passingly familiar with. They look content and happy, or at least they do until Clint walks and says “Turn it off, Jarvis.”

 

The T.V. cuts out, despite Tony’s indignant squawks. “What the hell, Katniss?”

 

“It’s Phil’s birthday,” Clint says and Phil is very suddenly the centre of attention.

 

“Today?” Steve asks and Clint nods.

 

“And you didn’t know? You are the worst boyfriend ever,” Tony says and Phil sees Clint flinch a little. Phil moves closer and takes Clint’s hand in his own, weaving their fingers together.

 

“It wasn’t exactly common knowledge, Stark,” Phil says and Clint gives his hand a tight squeeze in gratitude. The rest of the team breaks out into chatter, talking about plans and where they can get a birthday cake on Christmas – and please, Tony’s a Stark, he can get a cake from anywhere, even on Christmas – and Phil feels the bitterness and disappointment he felt earlier dissolve, only to be replaced by a warm, happy feeling.

 

Clint uses the distraction to pull him close, wrapping his arms around Phil’s waist and pressing himself up against Clint’s back. His hands hold a small present that Clint presses into Phil’s hands.

 

“I was saving it till later, but I think you probably deserve to have it now,” Clint whispers as Phil’s fingers start to pull at the wrapping paper. Inside there’s a brand new watch to replace the one he lost when they fought giant sludge monsters a month ago. He tilts his head for a quick kiss and is rewarded by Clint’s brilliant smile.

 

“Happy Birthday, Phil.”

 

And really, in the end, Phil decides he doesn’t mind sharing his birthday with Christmas, as long as he gets to spend it with Clint and the family that they’ve built around them. 


End file.
